by Joyce Lavene
Gael returned her smile stiffly, closed to any other impression from the woman. Where there had been a shield before, there was a firm wall, rigidly maintained with fear and discipline.
Lanier watched the stiff, straight back leave through the doorway, the ENDO red uniform crisp and correct. She sighed and decided to call Juroh, wanting to tell him the news. She had wanted to help Gael but she could see that Gael was the only one who could do that.
Chapter Twenty-three
Had she and Kat settled their differences? Gael had wanted to laugh at the phrase. Thinking back on the interview, she realized how much she'd wanted to hear some word about him. She'd left him there on Chrysalis because she felt that he'd wanted something more from her than she was willing to give.
If he'd just wanted to be her lover, it would've been simple. She wasn't as sexually active as many of her friends but she'd spent time with many men in her life. Being his lover would have been easy and overwhelmingly pleasurable. There was no doubt of that in her mind.
But Kat, being who he was, wouldn't have been satisfied with just the physical. Gael understood that was why he'd chosen to give Captain Amato a dream lover rather than the real thing. Rians were a spiritual people. They didn't give themselves lightly. Gael found that in this case, she couldn't give herself at all.
Lanier had kept Gael from being linked with any telepathic dealings. She was still in good stead at ENDO. A hero, in fact, looking forward to a raise in station.
A hero with feet of clay, she realized, as time passed. Even though she was separate from Kat, she had to acknowledge a change in her life. That feeling of being able to see from someone else's eyes kept recurring. When she met a few of the Central Alliance's leaders, she had immediate exposure to their secrets, their intimate lives. There were things she hadn't wanted to know but couldn't seem to stop.
She prowled the complex restlessly. No activity seemed to exhaust her enough. Her mind raced ahead of her will. She knew her life would never be the same. Worse, she knew she would have to have training to be able to live in this new and untried way. But she had to be certain. Her childhood had taught her one very important lesson that she would never forget. It was imperative to know the truth about herself and to face it. She was strong enough to handle it. She had pulled herself up from the streets in R'agus and reluctantly, it was there that she returned to find her answer. Arcon had hinted towards that at the beginning of the journey. Gael grimly followed his lead.
There had been that grain of truth in the Chrysaline's words to her. Pain and anger had made her who she was and she'd have to be able to give those up to become what she could be. She realized that she had never returned home for that reason. The memory of her childhood was strong within her. It was a fear that kept her going, reminded her who she'd been.
To go back might be the chance to see Farga and herself in a different light. Could she weaken her constant companions from the streets? Pain and anger were the brother and sister that pushed at her when she was scared and loved her when she was alone. Was she willing to truly be an orphan?
Could she face that? she asked herself as she received permission to land the cruiser at R'agus docking port. She almost changed her mind, almost took the cruiser away and never went back. But Kat's voice, the mystery of their mind mesh, kept her going. She'd have to find her answers one way or another.
***
Fargan officials were outwardly suspicious, even though ENDO officers were not infrequent visitors. The only place to legally drink Fargan rum was on Farga in one of the dirty little taverns. Gael's Fargan birth was what bothered them. She wanted to put a hand up to hide her cheek as they coldly assessed her. Then she reminded herself who she was and where she'd come from. Her chin lifted. Arrogance replaced timidity. "Is there a problem?"
"No." The reply was careful. "Pass."
She went slowly through the line off the dock. But she could feel their eyes on her back. She didn't give them the satisfaction of looking back. The streets were dark and dirty, as she remembered. They brought back memories of death, of stealing for survival. She'd slept in trash collectors, in burnt out buildings. She'd never known her name, if she had one. Or her parents, whatever happened to them. She had known the loneliness, the desperation and the gnawing fear. She had never known, until she'd forced an ENDO recruiter to take her with him, what it was to have enough food, to be warm. Or dry. Or safe.
Nothing had changed. There was a tavern on every street. Cold, metal buildings glinted in the orange light. Bodies lay in the side streets, covered in dust and old papers and little else.
A hand clawed at her foot from the open grate in the dark street as she walked by. Without a thought, she kicked it away. Her face hardened as she pulled her dark cloak closer around her. All of these things swept by her in the open streets. The smell of rum and of hopelessness pulled at her. There were cries from the shacks and calls from the corners for mercy. In all her most vivid nightmares, she didn't remember this place being so terrible. She didn't realize it was so much a part of her.
They spoke of creating a new branch of Endo that would allow telepaths. Gael felt that to acknowledge this new part of her meant being ready to give up the old. ENDO had saved her life. Without it, she would have been Toine, someone's slave, if she'd been fortunate enough to live that long. The hard work and training had helped her build her life when she'd escaped from Farga. Would she have been able to do the same if ECHO had found her and had sensed her telepathic abilities?
A young child, face encrusted with dirt and open sores, called to her. Long, matted hair framed a face pinched with cold and gaunt with hunger. She thought of Toine, of herself. She would have reached out a hand. The light caught on the edge of a chipped blade, not unlike the one she'd carried as a child.
"I'll take yer purse," the child spoke in gutter Fargan.
Gael stepped back, emotional pain gripping her like a vise. She started to take the knife, thought to grab the child. But this wasn't the way. If the child had a chance to survive, she would have to do whatever she could, whatever she had to, possibly far worse than filching a stranger's purse in a dark alley.
Gael flung her belt wallet to the child's eager hand.
"Best not to walk here, keisha." The child used the Fargan word for slut. She laughed as she ran away.
Gael shivered through a cold night on the streets of R'agus, hidden in an alley cache, searching for something she wasn't sure she could name. The answers to her life and future surely, but something more that was at the periphery of her mind. She stared out into the orange-gray darkness, her dark cloak wrapped around her. A crippled woman searched the trash nearby, never seeing her. The smell was intolerable but the cold wind raced past carrying paper and some of the stench with it.
She thought of Toine, of the child she'd let rob her and the countless young children like them she'd known growing up here. The thousands more that would be born and die here too young, with no chance to escape. Her mind wandered to Kat. In all her life, she'd never known anyone like him. She'd had her moments of intimacy with others. There were always other ENDO officers and the occasional civilian she'd met on assignment.
Kat was more than that, more than someone she could quickly put aside. He'd taken a place inside of her, an empty place she'd never considered anyone filling. When he said that she would never be alone again, she'd believed him. Even during that long night in R'agus, she felt him with her. There was no fluttering of presence in her mind or the warmth of his touch. Just a calm, sure place inside her that told her that he was someone she could trust with all of it.
And slowly, she began to understand how she had changed. ENDO was an important part of her life but it didn't have to be her entire life. She was older and stronger. She wasn't that young girl who'd ripped the slave brand from her face or the frightened thief from the street. Farga was a part of her but it was no longer a cancer eating at her fear and anger. Those streets had made her strong, not destroyed he
r.
ENDO had given her a means to express that strength. ECHO would do the same in a different way, but as Kat had insisted, she would have to be free of her fear first. With a deep breath, she let it go along the dark streets that night and the wind whipped it away. She was empty, vulnerable. But free in a way she'd never been before.
Just before the white Fargan dawn, a figure swaddled in rags with bare feet approached her. A hand, gnarled and wrinkled, rested on the head of a black wooden cane. Sister.
She sat upright, hearing the Fargan word spoken gently within her.
Daughter.
Who are you? Gael demanded. Do you know me?
There was laughter, like rain falling in the forest. As I know the trees and the sky. As you have come to know your own heart.
Who are you?
I am your father. Your brother. We are of the same blood. Of the night and the stars.
Where have you come from? Stay -- talk with me.
You will come to find me -- to find us. And yourself. Not now but later. When you are older and stronger. We await you.
Gael blinked and he was gone in a swirl of brown dust and dim light. Had he really been there? The black cane lingered there in the street. She pulled her cloak tightly about her and went to pick it up. It was heavy, with deeply inlaid carvings from top to bottom. He had brought it to her; they had left it for her. It was her heritage to claim, her birthright. It was her tie to the return that the old man had promised. She shivered, sensing that she had received what she'd come for. Staring into the pallid Fargan sun, she knew it was time to go.
By day, R'agus hid its seamier side. The towers gleamed and the streets were sprayed to wash away any unpleasant reminders of the night. Gael emerged from the shadows as the rum workers were marched by on the way to the fields. Most were prisoners. Some were native Fargans who'd never known any other life. They'd traded their freedom for a chance to survive off the streets. All wore the slave brand.
Wet, cold, shaken, yet strangely elated, Gael concealed the heavy wooden walking stick in her cloak and dared the authorities to question her. She looked back on her home world once. The darkness of her memories and the strength of the promise were within her. Then she turned away and walked quickly through the port area to her waiting shuttle.
In the archives of the ship's computers that Menor was nice enough to grant her access to, she found reference to the ancient tribes of Farga. They had wandered away from civilization hundreds of years before she'd been born. Apparently, the original colonists had no scruples about the rape of the innocent world they'd found or the enslavement of its people. The newly created Fargan government, really nothing more than a handful of free traders with high tech weaponry, had stolen the native's rum then grown fat on the profits they'd found from its sale. The native Fargans were enslaved or killed, forgotten after only minor skirmishes. Their labors had created the shining towers of R'agus.
There were the usual myths of telepathic encounters and tales of flying. Talking to trees and animals was common in every ancient culture. It was nothing that every religion on every planet didn't claim. The tribes of Farga were thought to still exist in small, scattered areas throughout the planet despite the government's best efforts to bring them in for "co-habitization".
The computer listed the word as meaning the process of teaching to live within the bounds of accepted society. Gael read it as death and slavery. Any true data gained from research of actual encounters hadn't been available for hundreds of years. No one, it seemed, had ever actually seen a tribesman in the wild and come back to tell about it.
The singular piece of evidence she'd managed to conceal from Fargan authorities rested in her lap. It possessed energy, a life of its own as she touched it. The emanations were too strong, too wild for her to maintain contact for long. Someday it would be the answer to her questions. According to what museum info disk had to offer, it was thought to be the voklava's magic stick, his wand of power.
Gael felt certain that she had seen a tribesman. Could she be of that rare and mythic Fargan race? Most Fargans weren't known to be telepathic. But hadn't the tested ones been descendants of off-worlders rather than the natives? Kat's surprise at her being able to keep her telepathy a secret from ENDO was real. Was this a remnant of her tribal heritage?
Just to prove something to herself, she had insisted on being tested just after she'd returned from Chrysalis. No electronic test, no human telepath inspector could detect that as they questioned her, she could tell them what they'd done earlier that day. It couldn't be counted as a skill. It had been an unconscious protection on her part. Certainly, someday, when she'd mastered it, it would change ENCOM's ideas on psi testing.
She needed to be able to handle the strength inside of her as she handled her weapon or her knife. She needed a good teacher. Someone she could trust. She knew where to find him. The trick, however, was in trying to return to Chrysalis.
Chapter Twenty-four
The planet was off limits to everyone except for some workers and a few high level ECHO officials. When word of the new planet had reached the system, everyone wanted to be there. Central was trying to keep away the curious and the thrill seekers until the Chrysalines had a chance to be able to absorb some of the culture that they'd left for so many years.
Gael had already seen holos of Arcon for sale in the port at R'agus. The market moved quickly. Even Central and ECHO would only be able to protect the Chrysalines for a short time. She'd been denied access to Chrysalis since her ENDO status registered her as vacationing. She'd tried to get through to Lanier to gain access clearance but couldn't reach her. Menor was away as well. That left ingenuity.
She wasted no time in heading out for Land's End. As the closest access point to the planet, any trade or employment would come from its dubious denizens. The mammoth hulk of a station was a free port. Its laws bordered being non- existent and its reputation stood firm. Warm a seat at any bar long enough and you'd find who or what you were looking for. A little bit of everything passed through Land's End.
There was talk of a disaster on Joppa where many of the for-hire workers were heading. Gael shook her head at the thought of losing the singing trees of that world. It wasn't hard to hear word of Chrysalis and it didn't take very long. A Guardsman team was looking for a few good workers to replace the few that hadn't made it to Land's End. There had been a fight just after leaving their home base and the injuries had been extensive. Guardsman, it seemed, was recruiting convicts again despite ENDO's warning about the consequences.
They were heading down to the Chrysalis planet to dismantle the ore processor. A rough looking Quellan offered high pay and a quick job to anyone interested. Most workers, knowing Guardsman's reputation for cheating on their wages and long, boring hours on deserted planets, kept away. Gael ignored the breach in the law, her ENDO reds tucked away in storage at the station. It suited her purpose keenly that Guardsman wasn't interested in her background. She joined the group in only a few minutes.
The team was a tough group of men and women that had obviously been tested specially for the job. They lacked even the finesse of the Guardsman crews she'd met before. These were prison inmates that had been offered a chance to work off their sentences. Gael held her own with them, wearing the gray Guardsman garb once again. She'd heard it all, seen it all in her travels. She could out curse a Galator and out drink a Quellan.
No one who had seen her touch a knife doubted her skill at that either. She kept her distance from the others, not encouraging any conversation. She'd always known that the scar on her face did wonders for her prestige.
They climbed aboard a shuttle and headed down to the planet. Most of them were too drunk or drugged to care what happened to them. Freedom was a heady feeling to someone who hadn't seen daylight for years. Gael held her head down when she saw that Fris was in charge of the operation. He looked a little leaner than she remembered, maybe a little tougher. Certainly none the worse for his experienc
e at the hands of the Chrysalines. He stood at the front of the shuttle and ticked off the rules and regulations that were to be observed on the planet.
The man beside Gael snored loudly and another worker grinned and belched. Most of the others laughed then went back to sleep. Fris gave up finally, reviewing a notebook he carried tightly. Gael recognized it as the ENDO handbook. Was Fris planning to test for the corps? She stored away the information for the future. A word in the right ear went a long way. He had something to learn about command but Fris was a good man. As Senfald had been, as Toine would have been, given the chance.
There was no command set up on the planet as yet. Approaching shuttles simply circled and landed when they saw an opening. Only ECHO...no, that wouldn't do. Not if she was going to be a part of the group. She smiled slightly to herself. Maybe they would be willing to take a few helpful suggestions.
The landing was bumpy. Gael couldn't say much for Guardsman pilots but they were all still in one piece. The group straggled out into the watery sunshine. Fris counted them carefully then began issuing orders.
"We'll be organizing over there." He pointed towards the processor. "We'll divide into groups. You aren't allowed to have drugs on the planet." He spoke to the man beside her. "You'll have to surrender that."
"You want it?" The man's slurred speech testified against him. "Come and take it."
Gael was watching another shuttle unload a few meters away. Her plans to quietly leave the group at the processor and sneak away to the caves seemed a little too simple now that she was there. It could take days to get away. A large group of enthusiastic ECHO agents were greeting a delegation of Chrysalines and --
Fris started towards the man at her side. The worker was twice his size and drugged. A weapon probably wouldn't dissuade him. The enraged worker lunged at him, bearing him down to the ground. Gael, not wanting to help or hurt Fris' moment, moved deftly away.
Arcon hovered off to one side of the ECHO group, his wings gilded in the sun. His face wore an expression of pleasure as he met the youths. Gael heard Kat's voice and looked for him, hungry for the sight of him. He was there, dressed in spotless ECHO blues as she had first seen him. His long hair was loose and golden in the light.